


The Memories Remain

by HufflepuffChildOfApollo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Astoria Greengrass Lives, Astoria Is Not Dying, BAMF Astoria Greengrass, Cinnamon Roll Scorpius Malfoy, Curses, Draco Malfoy is a Good Parent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Illnesses, Love Letters, Memories, Not Canon Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Sad with a Happy Ending, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffChildOfApollo/pseuds/HufflepuffChildOfApollo
Summary: "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure" ~ Albus Dumbledore





	1. Prologue

Astoria's breathing was heavy and labored as she laid on the hospital bed. Her heart monitor chirped steadily in time with her heartbeat. Her hand was clutched tightly in her husband's, and her son sat beside her, quietly twisting her long hair into a braid. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. At the door of the bed sat Astoria's sister Daphne with tears running freely down her face. 

 "I can't believe this," Daphne sniffled. "All the treatments and potions...for nothing?" She looked at Draco. "Isn't there something the Healers can do?" 

 "They've already done everything they can," Draco replied through gritted teeth. Daphne's voice had never been a comforting sound, but right now it seemed like someone was banging a hammer against a pot right beside his ear. "The treatments weren't for nothing, either. She'd have been dead years ago without them."

 "Well, she'll be dead in days _with_ them!" Daphne stood, storming out of the private ward. Astoria shifted in her sleep, and Scorpius gently took her hand, running his own hand through her hair. 

 "Come on, Scorpius. We should let her sleep..." Draco said softly, standing. "She'll be here when we return."

 "When we _come back_ , Dad. Nobody says 'return' anymore," Scorpius joked, trying to disguise a quiet sob. Still, Draco saw when  his son reached up to wipe away a tear. He sighed, beckoning Scorpius. 

 "Come on, let's head back home." Together, they walked out of the hospital and to the nearest alley, where they Side-Along Apparated home. 

Scorpius immediately made for the bedroom, and Draco, after asking a house-elf to fix a pot of tea, retreated to his study. He sat at his desk, staring quietly at the floor. 

 _We've had that carpet forever,_ he thought, trying to distract himself. He sighed, looking over to the wall, where a portrait of he and his wife hung. 

_Why do you have to leave? That's...bloody unfair._

Draco could imagine Astoria smiling softly, her green eyes shining.  _"not everything's fair,"_ she'd say. And then she'd kiss his cheek and punch his shoulder and tell him to help her fix dinner. 

He sighed, laying his head on the desk. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head ached after sitting in the brightly lit waiting room for over an hour. He drew his wand and flicked it at the sconce on the wall, sending a gust of air that put out the candles. 


	2. Chapter one

Draco had not slept but ten minutes when a knock on the door roused him. He suppressed a groan and sat up, waving his wand to open the door. His son walked in, no longer attempting to disguise his tears now they were at home. "Dad."

 "Scorpius," Draco muttered. _He never comes in here._ He sighed, laying his forehead back on the desk in an attempt to alleviate his headache.  _This is like a level-ten hangover,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully. "Shut up," he told it. 

 "W-what?" Draco looked up and saw Scorpius looking at him, wide-eyed and a little hurt.

 "Not you, Scorpius. What is it?" At his question, Scorpius shifted from foot to foot and sat down in the chair in front of the desk. 

 "I-I was just wondering...do you have a Pensieve?" 

Draco sat up, taken aback, and looked at Scorpius. "A what?"

 "A Pensieve...for holding memories —"

 "No, I know what you mean, just why?" 

Scorpius looked down. "I just...I don't want to..." He trailed off, but Draco's brain had already finished the sentence; It was the same thing Draco had been thinking for ages. 

_I don't want to forget her._

Draco sighed. "I'm sure we won't need it. However, I will teach you how to use one." He stood, crossing the room to the armoire in the corner. He flicked his wand and the doors opened, revealing the large collection of potion supplies, alchemical tomes and scrolls, and in the center, a stone basin twice as deep as his hand was wide and filled with a swirling blue substance, not quite liquid but not quite gas — thoughts and memories, taken from his own mind and stored there for later viewing. 

He picked up the Pensieve and carried it to his desk, setting it down gently. Though he knew it wouldn't spill, he didn't want to drop it or break it. Scorpius watched with wide eyes as Draco lifted his wand to his temple, drew out a long strand of silvery-blue thought, and dropped it into the Pensieve. 

 "This is one of my earliest memories of your mother." He held up a hand as Scorpius leaned forward. "You have to be careful with Pensieves. You never know when one memory might end and you'll find yourself in another, that might be less appealing."

 Scorpius nodded, tracing the runes and hieroglyphs along the edges of the basin with his finger. "What're these runes for?"

 "It's the enchantment on the Pensieve," Draco explained. "That's how it can hold and show memories. There's Celtic, Greek, Egyptian and Roman writing, among others. Different Pensieves have different languages. This one's even got a little French written on the bottom."

Draco sighed. "I'll teach you how to use it later. For now we'll get some tea and then go check on your mother. She should still be asleep, but I don't want her waking alone." Scorpius nodded, standing, and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. 

 "I'll go get some of Mum's books...She likes it when I read to her..." He hurried out of the room, and Draco sighed. 

 _He's too young for this._ Draco covered the Pensieve, hoping he'd never have to use it, and walked out, locking the door behind him. 

***

 

  After a cup of tea, Scorpius had calmed down considerably, as had Draco himself. Draco was now reading through a book on healing, with Scorpius leaning on the back of his chair and reading over his shoulder. Scorpius had several books in his arms, clutching them tightly.

 "Dad?" Scorpius suddenly said, and Draco paused in his reading. 

 "Yes, Scorpius?" 

 "What happens to people after they die?" 

 Draco sighed, considering for a long moment how to answer. His son had always been inquisitive, sometimes too much for his own good. He wouldn't be satisfied with a simple 'I don't know', nor would it be true. Draco didn't like lying to Scorpius. 

 "Well, lots of things can happen," he finally said. "If the person so chooses, they can come back as a ghost. Generally, though, they choose to go onward. Where 'onward' is, nobody's really sure of, since nobody's been there and come back.

"Sometimes the person who dies has a portrait of themselves made, and leading up to their death will converse with the portrait and try to teach it to be like them. Naturally, no portrait can fully capture the occupant's personality. It would be a mere shadow compared to the real person." 

 "Back to the ghost thing, what happens if a ghost decides that they want to go on?" Scorpius walked to the chair across from Draco's and sat down. "Can they?"

Draco shook his head. "It's a one-time choice, far as anyone knows. You can't change your mind." 

 Scorpius nodded, his brow furrowed. "What are ghosts, anyway?"

Draco sighed. "A ghost is an imprint of a departed soul," he said, reciting what he was taught in his sixth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The things his brain held onto...

"I know  _that,_ but what  _is_ a ghost? I mean, what are they made of? "

 "Energy, I suppose. That's what most researchers have come up with. The Ministry are still learning, though." Draco paused, looking at Scorpius. "Not that they're telling anyone, but there have been rumors for years about an ongoing study in the Department of Mysteries." 

 "Oh." Scorpius nodded, shifting the books in his arms. 

 "Now, I believe we were supposed to go and see your mother." Draco stood, closing his book, and held out his arm to Scorpius. Scorpius took hold of his arm and Draco Apparated them to the alley near the entrance to St. Mungo's. 

 "Remember, you have to be quiet," Draco reminded Scorpius as they stepped through the glass window and into the waiting room. Scorpius nodded, but the next second he had sprinted at full speed across the room and was chatting away with one of the portraits hanging on the wall. Draco shook his head, sighing, and walked to the reception desk. 

 "We're here to visit Astoria Malfoy," he said. The receptionist witch's scowl at the mention of the last name would have stung ten years ago, but now it was quite commonplace, and all he could do was sigh, roll his eyes, and repeat his request. He really had perfected the art of acting like he didn't care. He thought so, anyway, although Scorpius had once informed him that he had _"a perfect 'May-I-Speak-To-The-Manager' face"._

 "Second floor. Serious Illnesses ward." The witch's gaze wandered toward Scorpius. "Keep him quiet."

 Draco nodded, sighing, and did his best not to sound snarky when he said "Yes, ma'am." He beckoned Scorpius, and together they walked up the stairs. 

As soon as they had entered the Serious Illnesses ward Scorpius ran over to Astoria's bed, his eyes wide as he dropped his books on a chair. "Mum!"

Astoria was sat up in her bed, propped up on a pillow. She smiled, looking up from the papers in her lap. "Scorpius!" 

She held her arms out, embracing him tightly when he reached her. She smiled at Draco over Scorpius's shoulder, waving a hand to beckon him forward. He slowly walked over to her, sitting at the edge of the bed. 

 "How are you feeling?" he asked, taking her hand once Scorpius had moved. 

 "Tired," Astoria replied, sighing. "Can't wait to go home." 

 Draco bit his lip. "Astoria—"

 "I know, Draco, but I'm not spending the next two weeks in here." Draco noticed a slight strain in her voice as she spoke, and if he looked closely he could see that her eyes were rather bloodshot. 

 "Astoria, you're not well enough yet to leave." He squeezed her hand, moving a bit of hair out of her eyes. "Two weeks isn't that long."

So he said, but Astoria's eyes spoke what neither of them wanted to say out loud; Astoria might not have that long. 

 "It's getting late," she said softly. "You two go home and get some rest." 

 Draco sighed. 

 "Alright..." He kissed her head, squeezing her hand, and stood up. "I'll come see you tonight." 

Astoria nodded, kissing his hand. "I'll see you tonight."

Scorpius hugged Astoria, kissing her cheek. "Love you. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Astoria smiled, moving a stray lock of hair back into place on his head. "I love you too. See you tomorrow."

 Draco kissed Astoria on the cheek, putting an arm around Scorpius. "Come along, Scorpius. She needs rest, and so do you." 

Scorpius nodded, standing and wrapping his arms around himself. "Bye, Mum," he murmured quietly. He looked over at Draco, not meeting his eyes. Draco sighed, gently guiding Scorpius toward the door. The two Apparated home, Scorpius looking on the verge of tears again as he ran off to his room. 

Draco sighed and went back to his study, dragging out an old crate full of empty vials and bottles. He sat cross-legged on the floor, getting out his wand, and picked up a bottle. "Here we go," he breathed as he put the tip of his wand to his temple and drew out a strand of shining, silvery-blue memory. 


	3. Chapter two

_The crisp brown leaves fell upon the path, creating a loud crunching sound whenever she walked. He smiled, watching as she went out of her way to step on one._

_"Astoria, keep up!" she called, looking back over her shoulder. Draco looked back too, rolling his eyes at the younger girl, who shuffled along the path, her nose in a book._

_"Quiet, Daph!" she complained, turning a page. "It's at a funny part, and you're distracting me!"_

_"Oh, you and your books!" Daphne condescended, kicking up a pile of leaves. Astoria flinched as several leaves hit her in the face. "Live a little, Tori!"_

_"Don't call me that," Astoria groused, closing her book and stowing it in her purse. "You know I hate it when you do."_

_"Shut up, will you?" Pansy Parkinson sneered, drawing up to Draco's side. "Why did we even let her come along?"_

  _"Beats me," Daphne said, running ahead. "Hurry up! We're almost to Hogsmeade. Astoria, put the damn book away!"_

_Astoria rolled her eyes, closing the book again and muttering some choice words under her breath. As she passed, Pansy stuck out her foot, tripping her up._

_"Ow!" Astoria exclaimed as she landed, hard, on her chest. She didn't get up for several seconds, the wind knocked out of her. Pansy laughed cruelly, and Daphne rolled her eyes as she pulled Astoria to her feet._

_"Stop being so dramatic, Tori," she said with an apologetic look at Pansy. "You're embarrassing me," she added in a hiss, picking up the bag Astoria had dropped and shoving it toward her. "You're lucky I let you come along at all!"_

  _She walked off down the path. Astoria stared after her, looking downcast as she brushed dust off her robes and bent down to pick up her book. She held it to her chest and walked on, her breathing labored and eyes teary as she turned around, passing by Draco on her way back to the castle._

Scorpius pulled back from the basin, looking at his father with wide eyes. 

 "That was...mind-blowing," he said, amazed. His dad smiled a little. 

 "That was one of my first memories of your mother." He stood from the chair where he sat, picking up a sheet of dark blue velvet and covering the top of the Pensieve. "I was fifteen."

 "How— how does this thing work? How does it hold that...stuff? What  _is_  that stuff?" Scorpius asked, bursting with still more questions.

 "There are a lot of ways it works. The first is the material it's made of." Draco knocked his fist on the side of the basin.

"The main carved stone is embedded with lots of other stones for the purposes of improving memory, such as Agate, Celestite for blocking out distracting 'noise', Dumortierite — which I know I'm pronouncing wrongly, I'm not sure how exactly I'm supposed to — to reduce emotional tension and clear a scattered mind. Rhodonite also helps for that, and helps with broadening perspective. Different Pensieves have different stones, for different purposes. This one —" he tapped on the basin again. "—is a bit of a wild card. Designed to be used for pretty much anything."

 "What else are they used for?" Scorpius asked, leaning forward curiously. 

 "Lots of things —  Aurors use them to find clues in their cases, Unspeakables use them for research into the human mind — don't tell anyone I told you that, by the way, it's classified." He sighed, tracing a finger around the rim of the basin. "Some people get specific types of Pensieves for specific things — romantic memories, for example, are often kept in a Pensieve made with Amethyst and Rose Quartz." He paused. 

 "There's a thin layer of some sort of potion in every Pensieve — mine is made with Draught of Peace and, of course, Memory Potion. It's common, however, to have one that's made using Love Potion. You can understand the appeal — put in a memory of you and your romantic interest, and while it won't  _change_ , it will  _seem_  more romantic in the moment you're watching." He sighed.

"Of course, that can cause some problems, particularly in the cheaper versions; say you accidentally put in that one memory of the time you walked into the locker room while the Captain was still changing."

Scorpius stifled a chuckle, trying very hard not to let his imagination get the better of him. His father raised a brow. 

 "Trust me, it's not funny when it happens. Not that I've ever had that happen — I'm not stupid enough to even  _have_  one of those Pensieves. It's exceedingly difficult to find a genuine one, and the cheap ones...well, they're cheap. And they tend to stop working after a year or so, and then you lose all the memories you put in." 

 Scorpius nodded, frowning. "So, when you put a memory  _in_...do you forget it or...?" 

 His dad shook his head. "It's more like you're taking out an exact copy of the memory, so it's still there if you want to remember it, but it doesn't take up as much 'space' in your head." 

 "How do you take out a memory? Is there a spell or...? And how do the memories work? What  _are_ they?" 

 There was a long pause while Scorpius's father thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "It's supposedly being researched."

"Oh." Scorpius nodded, thinking. 

 "Any other questions?"

 "Is there a limit on how many memories can fit in, and can I have leftover pizza for breakfast?"

 Draco raised a brow. "To the first question, think of it like your mother's digital camera. There's only so much space, so when it gets full you have to take out some of the memories." 

 Scorpius nodded. "That makes sense."

 "To the second question, yes, but be careful heating it up."

 "Alright, Dad." Scorpius stood, smiling. "Thanks."

His father smiled a little, nodding. "You're welcome, Scorpius." 


End file.
